Lines
by fidelius thistle
Summary: Writing lines can be a beautiful thing.


Harry gasped. The fingers playing across his back making him shiver with a mix of excitement and fear. The face before him had haunted his dreams for months, his life for years. Cold dark eyes peered at him, making his cock hard and his mouth dry.

God you're beautiful, he thought to himself, even as he felt his lover's tip ready to push into him. The force, though gentle, made his body fill with a momentary twist of pain before the pleasure of being filled took over and caused his mind to let go.

Snape's teeth, uneven though they were, made the most erotic display of marks on Harry's shoulder. His tongue, luridly pink, tickled Harry's ear lobe and he pushed harder into the tight hole as he gripped his own cock. The smooth ring of muscle caressed him, flexing around him in erotic torment. He loved being like this, balls deep in his young lover's tight little ass. With this left hand he reached between their torsos and fisted his lover's cock. His elegant fingers formed a tight glove. His pace picked up and he felt Harry start to shiver around him. Knowing Harry was close; Snape leaned in and kissed him. His hand moved down to grip his young lover's hip forcing him to remain still.

Harry felt the hot liquid shoot into him, hitting the hard nub deep inside. His eyes going completely round he bucked and came, the sticky white mess coating the Professor's chest.

Tired, Harry leaned forward; his forehead resting on his now spent lover's shoulder. His voice hushed and low, the student murmured into the pale skin beneath his lips.

"Forgive me, Harry, but I have no idea what you just said," the smoky voice whispered into his ear.

Harry looked up, his green eyes nervous and shining. His lower lip, so pink and inviting, was secure between his pearly whites. With a soft sigh he opened his mouth and said the worst thing that he could possibly ever say—at least in Snape's way of thinking.

"I love you." Those words, spoken with all the courage the Boy who Lived had ever had to muster, caused him to blush. A blush that at any other time would have make his lover's cock jump at attention, but at that precise moment all he could do was look at Harry and say nothing.

It seemed as though after all the years that Harry had known him, he had finally surprised his Potions Master.

As the silence wore on, Harry began to realize that all he really wanted was for the floor to swallow him whole. Even as he stood there contemplating the exact magical phrase to make that happen, he heard that smoky voice.

"Why? I … I can't. You don't know what you're talking about."

When Harry opened his mouth to speak Snape covered his mouth. "No. I will not be lied to. So don't."

Lifting his young lover from his lap he stood and pulled his trousers on.

"You know your way out."

With those words he walked away.

~*~

"He said that to you? Just like that? He walked off like it didn't matter?"

Hermione sat staring at Harry, her brown eyes as big as saucers.

"That big nosed greasy haired git! I never really did understand what you saw in him Harry," Ron stated. His ears glowed red as he glared at nothing in particular.

Harry sniffed and smiled weakly at Ron. He knew how much his friends loved him and it made him feel a bit better, even if Ron was putting down the only man he had ever wanted to love.

"He's wicked funny Ron. You just don't know that because you've never seen him when he isn't working. I have." He leaned back, resting his head against the wall behind his chair. It didn't matter to him that his friend didn't get it. He got it. He had thought that Snape had gotten it too. Apparently not, he thought to himself.

Hermione took a deep breath and spoke quickly. "Harry, maybe—and now don't get upset—but…well… maybe this was for the best. You know how unprofessional it was for him to be with you, right? He could have lost his job!"

As she finished speaking she lifted her eyes to Harry's. Expecting to see rage, or hurt lurking in their mossy depths, she was instead faced with guilt. It broke her heart to see him that way. Reaching out, she hugged him.

"It will be ok. Right Ron?"

"Yeah that's right, mate. Everything will be fine. There are plenty other guys out there who would love to shag you."

Harry smiled weakly and closed his eyes. He tried not to think about how it felt to see Snape walk away from him. He tried not to remember the way it had felt to have his heart thrown on the floor, but in the end the thoughts pushed their way into his mind.

~*~

For weeks, Harry walked through his days a total wreck on the inside, his inner pain never leaking past his happy boy-wonder mask. To all who saw him, save the few who knew of his plight, he was the same as always: Famous Harry Potter.

Classes drug on forever, even Quidditch held next to no pleasure for him. The worst by far though, was the night. He could pretend all he wanted during the day that he was ok and that his world hadn't changed one little bit. At night when all his classes were over and he lay in his bed, the curtains closed around him he found himself remembering, dreaming of Snape, caressing his lover in his mind as sleep caressed him.

~*~

Snape stood at the black board watching his sixth year students measuring, chopping, and otherwise preparing the ingredients for a basic Confusing Concoction. His onyx eyes darted from Neville to his favorite Gryffindor. Those soft green eyes that had refused to look at him for weeks fixed intently on the roots in front of him. His face relaxed, yet full of concentration. In his mind he saw that face looking up at him from so many angles. His eyes round, full of surprise, peeking around his shoulder as Snape moved into him. That mouth curved into a toothy smile as he laughed at some scathing yet witty comment.

The sadness that filled his heart was overwhelming and in a desperate attempt to shove it away he walked through his students, stopping now and then to dole out his customary scathing comments.

~*~

As the days wore on Harry found himself falling back into the way he had felt before Snape. His heart still ached but all in all he felt that he was doing well. Potions was still hell for him no matter how many times he told his friends and himself that Severus Snape was a memory.

As the leaves fell from the trees and snow licked the ground, the air in the castle took on a festive atmosphere. One afternoon, as Harry helped to trim the Great Hall for the upcoming Christmas holiday, he chatted with his best friend. He and Ron were hanging candles and tinsel on one of the enormous trees that Hagrid had pulled into the castle only that morning.

"Mum's invited you for Christmas. I'm writing her tonight to tell her your coming." Ron stood on his tiptoes, pointing his wand at the upper branches of the behemoth of a tree, floating tinsel to the out of reach places. His mind was only half on his conversation with Harry and he almost missed his friend's response.

"I thought I would stay here this year. I have a lot of studying to catch up on and…"

Ron cut him off, his voice low and full of concern.

"Don't stay because of him Harry. It will only hurt you again. Come home with me. Charlie is coming in too. It will be great. Please Harry."

Biting into his bottom lip, Harry thought for a moment.

"I really feel like I need to be here Ron. Do you think…well… that…? I don't know…" his voice trailed off in uncertainty. "Do you think that maybe they could come here?" His eyes pleaded with his best friend. Ron could see that he needed to say something.

"I'll write Mum—see what I can do. No promises though, ok?"

"Ok." Harry beamed.

~*~

With only one day of term left before the Christmas holiday, Harry walked through Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione, discussing just what to buy for each member of the Weasley clan. Mrs. Weasley's letter had arrived only a few days before, confirming that they could, indeed, spend part of the holiday at the Hogwarts castle, in light of the large workload that the boys had.

"I got them all books. There is never a bad time to read you know." Hermione said, in her bossy way that always made the boys smile.

"I have everyone except Charlie covered. What should I do for …" Harry lost his train of thought as he watched a tall dark haired figure march out of Gladrags Wizardwear, a package in his hand.

"Granger. Weasley." He nodded. His black eyes lingering for a moment on Harry's, "Getting that last bit of shopping before going home?"

"Hello Professor. Actually we are planning on staying arou-."

"How exciting for you Ms. Granger," he cut her off curtly. "If you'll excuse me." He nodded and walked off in the direction of the Three Broomsticks.

Harry sighed and bit his lip, staunchly refusing to let his sadness at being ignored overtake him.

~*~

Snape settled into his chair in the warmly lit bar. He's staying, was the only thought in his mind as his hand stroked the shot glass before him.

~*~

The night of Christmas Eve found Harry standing alongside Charlie Weasley in the Three Broomsticks talking about Quidditch at the annual Christmas Party. Charlie giving Harry pointers and sharing some of his favorite stories about the time he spent playing for his house team.

As the night wore on Harry found himself moving closer to the red haired man. His mind taking notice, not for the first time, that Charlie kept touching him—just a gentle hand on his shoulder, a thick-callused finger caressing his hair briefly. Harry had the distinct impression that he was being flirted with, even if it was rather discreetly. Even as the thought touched Harry's mind, Charlie leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"Can we go outside?"

Unable to say no, though he knew that it was cold as hell out there, Harry nodded and followed him. All the while keeping his eyes on his companion's ass.

~*~

"So, Ron told me that you were pretty insistent on my coming with Mum and Dad. Is that true?" Charlie asked with a smile. His plump lips curved up slightly, making his question seem like an invitation.

Harry, caught off guard, blushed scarlet and nodded his head without making a sound.

"I'm glad." He whispered. Raising his hand slowly, he leaned in and touched Harry's face.

"Is this ok?" When Harry nodded his head, he leaned forward. His lips a whisper away he stopped and looked in Harry's eyes.

Harry gazed back, thinking about how the brown eyes before him were so different from the eyes of the last person who had kissed him. These were warm and chocolate where the others had been freezing onyx.

With a nod he leaned across the space and pressed his lips to Charlie's. Never in a million years thinking that it wasn't his ex-lover that he was kissing, or for that matter that they had company.

~*~

Severus had been on his way to the party, Dumbledore and McGonagall on either side of him. He froze when he saw Harry and Charlie standing together. The redhead's hands on Harry's face, their lips touching. Once. Twice. Then pulling away. Vaguely Snape noted that their lips were moving. That they had stopped. At the sight of his green-eyed boy touching another, his heart froze. Until that exact moment he had ever realized how Harry had felt when he had walked away from him back in his classroom all those weeks before, but now he was aware—painfully aware. Before he had a chance to be seen, he excused himself from his companions and turned toward the castle.

~*~

Harry heard the crunch of shoes on the snow as he whispered his love's name against Charlie's lips. As the word slipped past his lips Harry knew that he had made a mistake. Charlie, hearing him, pulled back.

"Severus? Really." He cocked an eyebrow and gave Harry a lazy smile.

" I should have asked. How long have you two been…well…you know?"

"We aren't. I mean, we…well…err…that is we were. But he…He broke it off. Weeks ago." It hit Harry that this wasn't Ron or Hermione that he was talking to. " Oh God. Please _please_ don't say anything. I just…God forbid! You've got to promise!"

He was talking so fast that Charlie had to reach up and put a finger to his mouth to shut him up.

"I won't. I promise." With that he took Harry's hand and led him back into the party, but not before he saw the other man in question walking toward the castle as he held the door for his old Professors.

~*~

The Christmas holiday passed with much laughter, even from Harry, which his friends both noticed and discussed when he wasn't around. They had seen the moment with Charlie through a window. Hoping that his love had faded, they let themselves believe that things were happening between the Boy Who Lived and the red-haired dragon keeper.

~*~

Two weeks after term started, Harry sat behind his cauldron murmuring to himself. His eyes flicking to the chalkboard before him every so often to read the instructions as he worked at chopping his herbs. He had already had one potion vanished by Snape. His anger at being ignored unless Snape was cutting him down was finally getting to him. So when the black-eyed devil walked over and sneered at him, he shocked himself along with everyone around him.

"Is there a problem Severus?"

With narrowed eyes Snape leaned forward so that his face was mere inches from Harry's.

"Mind your manners and your tongue, Potter. I, unlike many here, have no patience for your insolence."

"Your point?" Harry couldn't figure out why he was talking like this, using an intimacy that was terminated months before. "Honestly, if you're finished glaring I have a potion to attend."

As he finished his sentence he crossed his arms over his chest. The whole class just sat there. Stunned. No one talked to Severus Snape, Potions Master, in that tone.

"Detention. Tonight. Six o'clock. Don't be late, Potter," was all he uttered before he turned toward the other side of the room. Almost as an afterthought he whispered "Evanesco."

With that command, the contents of Harry's cauldron vanished into thin air.

But Harry didn't care. The knowledge that he had detention with the man that had haunted his dreams for so many weeks had him walking on clouds all thorough his other classes.

~*~

At 5:57 pm, Harry knocked on Snape's door, his hands shaking slightly as his mind went back to the last time he had been alone with his Professor. He could almost hear the man moaning in his ear as he erupted into Harry's backside.

"Yes." Was all heard from the other side.

Walking in, he stood before Snape's desk, his bag resting at his feet.

"Today, Potter, you will be writing lines. Take out parchment and a quill." When Harry stood looking at him for a moment longer he barked, "NOW!"

Moving quick as a flash Harry settled into a desk and looked up at the man looming near him.

"Did you mean everything you said to me?"

When Harry nodded, he thought he saw something twinkle in the midnight eyes before him.

A slow smile spread across his pale face. "Everything."

It dawned on Harry what he meant. A small shudder escaped him.

"Yes."

"And Charlie Weasley?"

Harry stammered, clearly taken aback by Snape's knowledge of what had happened the night of the Christmas party. "How did you…? That was nothing! He just thought … I just…we…" Harry closed his eyes. "That was just a kiss. It wasn't something that I saw coming. I don't want him. Not like… not like I want you."

That was all that Snape needed to hear. As the last word left Harry's mouth the Professor had his lips brushing against Harry's. _So soft,_ he thought, running his tongue over them. He had missed that. He hadn't realized until that moment how much he had loved kissing the Boy Who Lived. I love this… love. Love?

Pulling away he smiled, winked at Harry, and then his trademark sneer was back in place.

"You will copy the sentence from the board for as long as it takes the message to sink into that thick skull of yours. Begin."

~*~

It was well past two in the morning when Harry came stumbling into the common room. Ron and Hermione sat, heads together, waiting for him. From the look on their faces Harry could tell they had been pretty involved before the sound of the picture frame moving had scared them apart.

Hermione spoke first, "How was it? What did he make you do?"

"Lines."

Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, "Lines! You were there for eight hours. You must have written at least a million lines for him."

A slow smile twitched across his lips as Harry looked at his friends. "What makes you think that I was writing the entire time?"

With that, he walked toward his side of the dormitory. Just as the door was closing behind him, he heard Ron's voice.

"What about Charlie …?"

Followed quickly by Hermione's voice "I'm beginning to believe that wasn't ever really an issue."

~*~

That night when Ron joined Harry in the dorm, he saw a piece of parchment lying on the bed next to Harry. He picked it up, unable to squash his curiosity. There on the page, written over and over again, was the sentence _Severus is sorry. And he loves me too._


End file.
